Saving People
by Laura Schiller
Summary: AU of "Half-Blood Prince", for anyone who was frustrated by Ron and Hermione's behavior. It's up to Harry to save his friends again ... this time from themselves.


Saving People

By Laura Schiller

Based on: Harry Potter

Copyright: JK Rowling

"I don't understand it," said Hermione, shaking her curly head as she watched Ron stalk away.

Harry made what he hoped was a sympathetic noise. This was the third time in two days that their normally cheerful friend had exploded at them in mid-study-session, snatched his essay away, and snapped at Hermione that he could do the work himself. From the look of her, flushed and tight-lipped as she glared at Ron's back climbing through the portrait hole, Harry wasn't the only one whose patience was wearing thin.

"At first I thought he was just nervous about the Quidditch game coming up," she continued, tapping the table with her empty quill, "But that can't be it. Last year he was nervous, and he didn't go around biting people's heads off. Do _you_ know what's going on, Harry? Is it some masculine crisis of which I'm not aware?"

Her brown eyes narrowed in a way that reminded him very much of Mrs. Weasley. He looked away; as usual, her guess was very astute, but how to tell her without making it impossibly awkward? _Ron's biting your head off because he wants to snog you, why else? _How would that sound to the most logical girl in the school?

"It's … Ginny," Harry said finally. "They had a row."

"Ginny?" Hermione's eyebrows rose; he knew what she was thinking. Ginny _had_ grown more outspoken in the past year, sometimes to the point of being aggressive, but she had always got on well with her youngest brother. "What did she say to him?"

"Well … he caught her kissing Dean in the corridor," Harry explained. "I was there too, but I didn't say anything …. not my business, really," his own irrational surge of jealousy notwithstanding. "And, er … Ron said some things, he said she was getting a - a bad reputation - "

"That's stupid," Hermione snapped. "Since when does dating two boys, one after the other, equal a bad reputation? And even if there _were_ more, what right does he have to interfere?"

"I know," Harry agreed, thankful that Hermione had said it first, so he could defend Ginny's honor without appearing to do so. "It _was_ stupid, and Ginny was … pretty mad."

"No wonder!"

"She told him if he could get any sn – er, kissing done himself, he wouldn't be so quick to judge other people." He suppressed a proud smile at the memory of Ginny, tossing her fiery hair and asserting her independence; he was sorry she had hurt Ron, but he couldn't deny she was in the right. "That I kissed Cho, and you kissed Viktor Krum, and Ron was the only one who - "

Hermione flushed an even deeper shade of pink. Her mouth fell open. Harry shut up abruptly, realizing what he had just said.

"_She told him about Viktor and me?_"

"Er … yeah."

"That was _private_!" Hermione bristled like a cat; her hair seemed to crackle with furious electricity. "She wasn't supposed to – I mean, not that it _matters_!Merlin's beard, it was two years ago, one kiss, and it wasn't even that good – "

Harry's expression must have shown his utter bewilderment, because she covered her face in her hands and slumped over the table in a manner more suited to Parvati or Lavender than herself. He was used to her going off on tangents no one else could follow, but not acting so … well … so much like a teenage girl.

"Care to fill me in?" he asked, taking Ron's role of bringing her back to earth, since Ron wasn't there to do it himself.

She made a choked noise, which could have been a laugh or a sob, and took her hands away. Her face, when she looked up at him, was surprisingly soft.

"Harry, do you think … do you think _that's_ why Ron's so upset?" she asked quietly. "You think he might be … a little … jealous?"

"A little?" Harry snorted. "Try a lot."

Hermione actually giggled, which made Harry nervous. Last time he'd checked, jealousy was not an emotion that warranted giggling.

"Did he tell you?" she asked eagerly.

"Not in so many words … " Her face fell. "But c'mon, Hermione. Five and a half years chasing around Hogwarts and solving mysteries? Did you really think I couldn't figure this one out?"

"I hate to remind you," she said carefully, "But you _do_ have a bit of a blind spot when it comes to romance, Harry."

"Thanks a lot," he grumbled, thinking of the Cho fiasco.

"So what makes you think that Ron … that he and I could … "

She couldn't even say it. He never thought he'd see Hermione Granger so lost for words. Any uneasiness he had felt at the idea of his two best friends becoming a couple was overpowered by the wish to see them happy. And the solution was so simple, really, if only they could look past their own pride and stubbornness to see it.

"Listen," he said. "Remember fourth year? When Ron was dying to get Krum's autograph, but the moment he saw you at the ball together, Krum became 'the enemy'?"

Hermione snorted. "Don't be ridiculous. If he'd liked me then, he would have asked me first instead of as a last resort!"

She had a point there, but … "What if he didn't realize he wanted to go with you until the jealousy kicked in? That … that does happen, you know." He forced down another painful mental image of Ginny kissing Dean.

"Hmm … maybe," said Hermione ruefully. "It certainly happened to me. If looks could kill, Phlegm – I mean _Fleur _– wouldn't have survived to enter the tournament. Not that it's her fault, being part Veela, but … ugh!"

"You two!" Harry shook his head in exasperation. "You are so much alike, it's scary sometimes."

"Ex-_cuse_ me?"

"You are," he insisted. "You dance around each other like a pair of – I don't even know what, instead of just being honest. Drives me mad, it does. Honestly, I used to worry about whether your friendship could survive being a couple … but I'm not sure it can survive much more of this either!"

He took a deep breath, realizing that his face was hot and his T-shirt sticking to his neck under the school robes. He had done it again: bottled something up for much too long, over two years in this case, until it exploded out of him like uncorked Butterbeer. Hermione sat motionless, her eyes wide with surprise, bordering on intimidation. At least when Ron lost his temper, he never made her look like that.

"It's just," she confessed, in a rather higher voice than usual, "I'm … I'm scared, Harry. He's handsome, funny, everyone likes him, a great Keeper when he's on form … he fought Death Eaters with us, he's almost as famous as you are! He could get any girl he wanted, someone popular, someone pretty … I know for a fact that Lavender fancies him, I heard her telling Parvati in our dorm. So why would he want to settle for someone like me?"

Harry had heard the expression 'love is blind', but he hadn't realized before just how accurate it could be. He raised his eyes to the ceiling.

"_Settle?_" he said, incredulously. "This is Ron we're talking about, remember? He's my best mate, but I have to say it: the man's got an inferiority complex that could give Moaning Myrtle a run for her money. You're the brightest witch in our year, Hermione, maybe even in the whole school. And if he's a hero for doing all that stuff with me, so are you. In his eyes, _you_'d be settling for _him._"

"You think … " Hermione took on that far-away look again, absently playing with one curl of her hair. "Then the perfume … the hugs … and when I asked him to Slughorn's party … and all that research for Buckbeak … really?"

She had gone into 'detective mode', putting seemingly random puzzle pieces together until she came up with the brilliant whole. This was not the time to interrupt her. Any minute now, she would beam, jump to her feet, grab her bag, and exclaim –

"I've got to go to the library!"

"What – are you serious?"

"Where else," she retorted, in a that-should-be-obvious tone of voice, "Would Ron go to finish his essay? I think he could use a bit of assistance, don't you?"

Judging by her scarlet cheeks and downright giddy smile, however, it was more than homework help she had in mind.

"Ah," said Harry, his eloquence exhausted for the moment. "Okay."

"Thank you, Harry!" she chirped, squeezing his shoulder. "I needed that. You're the best friend a girl could have."

"You're welcome," said Harry, smiling tiredly in return, as she flung her bag over one shoulder and dashed off.

/

It was a full three hours later that Hermione returned to the common room, gallantly helped across the portrait hole by none other than Ron. Her bushy hair was wilder than ever, and his face so red his freckles stood out like cinnamon on strawberry ice cream, but by some strange alchemy, they were both better-looking than Harry had ever seen them before. Ron, who had spent the last few days hunching his lanky frame into postures of shame and resentment, was walking with a straight back and his head held high. As for Hermione, the McGonagall-esque frown that so often puckered her lips and lined her forehead had smoothed itself into a look of luminous joy.

"Hey, Harry," Ron whispered conspiratorial, "You didn't put any of that Felix Felicis into my dinner, did you?"

"Not a drop," said Harry innocently, "Why?"

"Feels like it," said Ron, dropping happily into a nearby sofa, with Hermione perched next to him in a very unsubtle effort to stay close. "Wish I had Quidditch practice tonight. It'd be wicked."

"You don't need a potion to be a great Keeper, Ron," said Hermione, rolling her eyes, even as she couldn't stop smiling.

"If you say so," Ron replied, gazing deeply into her eyes.

Harry was torn between satisfaction, amusement, and comical dismay. This was exactly what he'd been afraid of. They were turning into Bill and Fleur right before his eyes, but if it made them this happy, what could he say?

"Er … guys?"

They emerged from their private world with some difficulty.

"I think I'll turn in early," said Harry, making an effort to be casual. "Good night."

"Good night," they chorused, snuggling together on the sofa.

_This_, he thought, rubbing his aching head, _is what comes of having a saving-people thing._

_Now if only I could sort out my own life so easily …_


End file.
